


Catching your Scent

by j_marquis



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, PWP, Power Dynamics, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:01:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_marquis/pseuds/j_marquis
Summary: The scent of his cologne is still on Tseng's gloves.
Relationships: Rufus Shinra/Tseng
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Catching your Scent

Tseng stepped out of the Vice President's suite, leaned against the wall. At least Rufus was safe. Safe, uninjured, just shaken. Resting in the suite, Tseng had already called the staff to have his meals brought up, but Rufus had insisted on dismissing him. Tseng scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake off the moment of panic. Come down from this. From the attempting bombing, the man with a gun who had tried to shoot Rufus. Pushing Rufus away from the attacks, his gloved hands in Rufus' hair, brushing it aside, searching his face, his body for injuries. The moment when their eyes met.

And oh.

Oh.

The black leather of his gloves smelled of Rufus' cologne, this spicy, earthy undefinable scent Rufus had started wearing recently, most often when he was forced to be among the public, Rufus knew he normally didn't wear cologne. But this was a decadent scent, rich, an invitation to lean close, breathe it in. To indulge in the lavish scent.

He scrubbed the glove over his face again, breathed it in. And for a moment it was like he was tucking his face against Rufus, gasping, letting him hold Tseng there.

He made his way to his own room, smaller, next door. Made sure the connecting door was unlocked, should Rufus need him. He always had to be available if he was needed.

He pushed the glove against his face. Sat on the bed, unbuttoned his jacket, loosened his tie. In his mind, Rufus' hand was in his face, his cold eyes watching Tseng undress.

_"Stop. That's enough." He could hear Rufus' voice in his mind. "Take yourself out of your pants."_

He did, sliding out of the suit pants only enough to expose his half swollen cock. Just this, just this simple little fantasy, the scent of his cologne on fine leather gloves, was enough.

And yet he allowed the fantasy to continue.

In his mind's eye Rufus was leaning over him, he traced the leather over his jaw, down his throat, a hint of pressure. In his mind the hand that wrapped around his cock, pressing a gloved thumb against the head wasn't his own. Rufus was teasing him. Owning him. That scent surrounded him, and he brought it back to his own face, gasping, trying to take in as much of it as he could, tongue flicking out against the soft, expensive leather. 

_"All this for cologne?" The Rufus in his mind teased, tugging Tseng's long hair back, exposing his throat, so the gloved hand could wrap around his throat. "Pathetic."_

Long fingers wrapped around his cock, and Tseng was so lost in his fantasies he wanted so badly to believe it was Rufus Shinra's rough, gloved hand stroking hard, squeezing just this side of painful, hand around his throat. He bit his lip so hard it bled trying not to moan aloud, trying not to beg the name of the man right next door. So close, so close.

He forced his hand off of his cock, head tossing on the blanket, he let go of his throat. Pressed his thumb into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue, it was filthy, the way he imagined it, with Rufus taking his mouth like that, forcing him not to touch, like every part of his body, even what he spilled in desperate imaginings, belonged to him. Tseng breathed around it, tears in his eyes as he gripped into the blanket, trying not to touch himself again. Make the moment last.

He didn't hear the connecting door open. Tseng had wrapped his hand around his cock all over again, twisting, stroking, hard, rough. Two fingers now in his mouth, thumb and ring finger pressed around his throat, he was sure the tears had spilled down his cheek. He didn't notice until someone had wiped the stray tear from his skin.

His eyes opened, frantically searching Rufus' face, not sure if he had shown too much.

"Was it my name you were whispering?" His voice was demanding, ever in control.

All Tseng could do was nod, he moved his hand, so he could force himself to breathe.

Rufus straddled him, loomed over Tseng and took his jaw in his hand, turning him, forcing Tseng to meet his eyes. "Say it again." 

"R-Rufus. Sir." Tseng gasped.

Rufus took Tseng's cock in his hand, just holding it, almost too tight. Intoxicating. "Good. Again."

"Rufus, sir, please." It was everything, intoxicating, the arousal went straight to his head and he wasn't certain he could hold his orgasm in any longer, even with Rufus just holding him, just squeezing, light, just controlling him. Owning him. Almost too much, he struggled to keep still.

"Is this what you get off to, Tseng? Imagining me owning even this part of you?" Rufus was still in control, still calm, barely even a hint of color on his cheeks, but Tseng saw, when he looked down, the telltale bulge in his crisp white pants. He wanted to see, wanted to expose it, to give him the impossible pleasure he was receiving.

But Rufus grabbed his hair, pulled him back up. Forced Tseng to meet his eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Y-Yessir. I get off on being owned by you sir." He could hardly keep meeting Rufus' eyes, he was too close. 

"Good."

Rufus stroked him, hand hard, closed tight around him, pulling Tseng's orgasm from his body. Kept going, until it became painful, until Tseng was limp, spent, hardly aware of anything but the delicious agony of overstimulation being drawn out of him.

"Open your mouth."

Tseng didn't even think before he obeyed the order, and he vaguely heard, over the rush in his head, Rufus undoing his pants, shifting, coming closer before Rufus took his head in his hands again, guided Tseng's mouth to his searing hot, swollen, and oh. oh it was large, arousal. Tseng accepted it gladly, hollowing his cheeks and swallowing back his gag reflex to allow the column of his throat to be ravaged by Rufus' need. 

He wasn't gentle and Tseng didn't want him to be. He fucked into Tseng's throat, choking him, hands tangled in his hair and pulling it, hurting him as he took what he wanted. Of course he did. Rufus owned him, and he owned this too. Every part of him was taken, and Tseng allowed it. Enjoyed it, even. Felt his wrecked, overstimulated body beginning to react to the way he was treated, he could feel heat spreading from his cheeks, down his chest, lower.

Rufus pulled out of his mouth, exposing his wet, thick cock, dripping with spittle and precum, long and reddened and utterly beautiful and Tseng whined for the loss of it.

"That desperate, are you, pretty Tseng?" Rufus stroked his hair, his other hand wrapped around his own cock, stroking lazily. "So wrecked, so beautiful. I could ruin you."

"Please." Tseng breathed. It was everything he wanted. To be used, owned, ruined in the service of the man above him. And Rufus was still quiet, completely in control when he came on Tseng's face, searing hot, it splattered in his dark hair, across his swollen, abused lips. And he took it, like penance, like a baptism, a mark of ownership. He was bathed in Rufus' presence, and he didn't have to imagine it, when he darted his tongue out to taste.

"Clean yourself off, strip naked, and come to my room. Don't waste time." Rufus ordered. Gave him no time to indulge in the warmth that was pooling inside of him.

"Yessir."


End file.
